


A Battle Fought And Lost

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: GERTI crashed, M/M, This was supposed to be Douglas!whump but then it was a pile of angst all around, complicated relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When GERTI goes down, the pilots are left in the hospital. One pulls through, the other...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Battle Fought And Lost

It had been so sudden. There was nothing anyone could have done and it couldn't have possibly been prevented. Or at least that’s what all the “experts” said. Neither pilot paid them mind. GERTI's descent from the sky had proved disastrous, and both Martin and Douglas were thankful that Carolyn and Arthur had not been on the flight. The two had ended up in the hospital, though with varying degrees of injury. Douglas was by far the worst off. Then again, using one's body as a shield to protect one's captain tended to bring about that kind of result.  
Currently, the first officer was staring at the ceiling, trying very hard not to notice exactly how much pain he was in. However, it was proving difficult, due to the fact that every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was the ground getting closer, fire in the flight deck, and GERTI ruined around them. The memories were fresh, but even if they weren't, they would still be seared into his mind, a burning reminder of all that had gone wrong. Gritting his teeth, Douglas tried to focus on anything, anything at all that did not have to do with pain or the crash. Nothing worked.

_“Mayday, mayday! Golf Echo Romeo Tango India, we've had an engineering failure, we're going down!”_

The monitors beeped away around him.

_“Douglas. I have control.”_

The distinct smell of a hospital seeped into his awareness.

_“Oh god.”_

The sheets scratched at his skin, reminding him of exactly where he was.

_The terrible sound of bending, tearing metal. Small explosions from the control panel. Martin's cry of pain._

Douglas gasped, snapping back into the present, dragged there by the sudden wrenching pain of his injuries. He nearly whimpered from the sudden onslaught, and gritted his teeth to resist crying out. With his eyes screwed shut, he of course didn't realize he wasn't alone and jolted when a hand pressed against his forehead. Blearily, he peered up at the figure leaning over him, meeting a mix of green, blue, and silver as he locked eyes with his captain.

 

_**The first time we met** _   
_**Your face became etched** _   
_**In my mind** _

Martin had been silently keeping vigil over Douglas, ever since he had been released for his decidedly less severe injuries. Carolyn and Arthur had been by as well, but it was always Martin that Douglas awoke to. At least the times when he was coherent enough to recognize the man. Most of the time, the pain was far too much, and Martin was left to call in the nurse. It was painful, watching someone so strong and seemingly invincible reduced to another victim in a hospital of hundreds.

Douglas tried hard not to let it show just how thoroughly affected he was by such tragedy striking him. He supposed that with his normal luck, he should have come out relatively unscathed, but choosing to protect Martin had cost him. He hardly regretted it of course, as he had firmly stated several times to a very guilty, panicky, stuttering Martin. Martin had finally stopped apologizing, but he still had had to bring up the one point Douglas wasn't sure he was ready to discuss.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you protect me? I-I mean, I know there's the whole thing with us being friends and all, and how being a business like ours, we look out for each other, but...Douglas. Douglas, I-I-I just don't understand why you, the man with no less than seven ulterior motives at a time, would put yourself in a position where you don't come out...where you come out so much worse off.”

Douglas swallowed thickly. He had been ready to wave it off as friendship, to perhaps excuse it as impulse, but Martin was digging into it. It was clear the other man had been thinking hard about this, and would not accept anything less than the truth.

“I did it, because in my mind, there was no other choice, no other possible course of action for me to follow.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Martin, you are incredibly precious to me, and I would not be able to live with myself if you were to get hurt when I had the chance to ensure you did not. You are my friend Martin, and more than that, you...in another life, I think I would’ve liked to see just how far you and I could have gone.”

“What are you saying?”

“I...I'm far too old for this, and I've had too much failure with marriage to be able to call this 'love' because I just don't know anymore. Besides, I'm falling far too fast to be any good for you.”

“Douglas, I- oh god. If-if it was anyone, I think it would be you, but...but I don't know either.”

And the words that went unsaid hung heavily in the air.

 

 **And I knew you could never love me  
** **I had so much sorrow inside**  
 _**You could never reach** _  
_**But can I still keep** _  
**A place in your heart?**

 

Not much changed. At least as far as health went. Martin had recovered sufficiently enough, but insisted on occupying the chair by Douglas' bedside as frequently as possible. Douglas was, if anything, steadily declining. It was a tragedy to watch a man like him slipping away beneath beeping machines and painkillers. The days where Douglas was awake at the same time as Martin were few, but the two made as much of them as they could. One of these days found Martin staring into space, as he leaned his arms on the sheets beside Douglas. The silence was heavy and thick with the weight of what was hanging between them. Not uncomfortable, just incapable of being ignored. Martin broke the silence first.

"I tried so hard not to love you."

Douglas blinked, processed the statement, and answered. "How'd you make out?"

"Terrible."

Douglas huffed out a bittersweet laugh. He knew. A man as clever and experienced as him knew, He would not be walking out of this hospital alive. So he gave up all pretense they had been maintaining, around the hospital staff, Carolyn and Arthur, and even themselves.

"Would you...love me the rest of my life?"

Martin turned his head to meet his eyes, a steadiness he had not possessed in recent memory present in his gaze. His face was calm and his eyes were solemn, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable.

"No, I'm gonna love you for the rest of mine."

And that was all that was needed.

 

_**Will you still miss me?** _   
_**(Yes I'll miss you)** _   
_**Do you love me?** _   
_**(Yes I love you)** _

 

It was hardly unexpected. Douglas had been slipping away for a while now. That didn't make it any easier. Sitting in the dead of night, gripping Douglas' hand, Martin had thought he had been a bit prepared. Of course, he wasn't. Not at all. It was the undeniable conclusion, but that didn't mean Martin was ready.

Douglas passed away quietly at three in the morning on a Thursday. Martin watched the whole time, quietly whispering to him, pouring out words filled with promises he would never be able to fulfill. At the very end, Douglas had gazed up at him, eyes glassy, and given him a sad, broken smile, so full of a love that would never see the light, and Martin had finally begun to cry. When those dark eyes had closed, and the fateful flat-line had sounded, Martin had felt a little more alone, and the world close in a little tighter, as he choked on a sob, and buried his face in the still-warm chest of his first officer. The doctors found him moments later, still clutching Douglas' hand, face-down and crying, whispering useless pleas of 'don't leave me.'

Douglas passed away quietly at three in the morning on Thursday. Martin really fucking hates Thursdays.

 

_**Planes fill the sky** _   
_**We'll both die tonight** _   
_**We'll both die tonight** _   
_**Hands from the sky** _   
_**Swat us away like flies** _   
_**As we follow the light** _

 

Days later found Martin in Douglas' flat, curled up in his bed, clinging to whatever traces of the man he could find. Buried beneath the sheets, he pressed his mobile to his ear. A number was quietly being dialed, and as the ringing continued, tears tracked their way down Martin's face. Still it rang, until finally-

_“Hello, you've reached Douglas Richardson. Should you need me or my expertise, do feel free to leave your name, number, and your reason for calling, and I'm sure we'll figure something out.”_

The message tone sounded. Martin hung up. He hit redial.

**_This union, a battle fought and lost_ **   
**_This union was not about the cause_ **   
**_This union was never about love_ **

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt on the meme, here: http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6034.html?thread=9224082#cmt9224082
> 
> The lyrics are from Silverstein's The End.


End file.
